I make my bed with sticks and stones
Of hurtful words that break my bones,
Arrange myself on stumps and lumps
And try to spend the night.
I close my eyes, I do my best,
But cannot sleep, can’t even rest.
Around ‘n round ‘n round ‘n round
Go words that sting and bite.
The stones, now grown to boulder size,
Participate with stick-y knives;
Relief of mind I cannot find:
I pray with all my might.
But then so soft and gently near
A tender voice says, “Child don’t fear!
I stole the words your ears have heard
And bathed them in my light.”
So now at last sweet sleep can come,
Those hurtful words have been undone.
And sticks and stones that broke my bones
Have vanished in the night.
PLEASE ENCOURAGE AUTHOR,
LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE Read more articles by Janice Cartwright or search for other articles by topic below.
It is beautiful when the Lord brings healing, even when the one who has hurt us has not apologized.
I really like your meter and rhyme scheme, though there are a couple of inconsistencies in the third stanza. Instead of:
"The sticks poke me like knives:"
where sticks and poke are both accented, and there are only six syllables, you might try something like:
The sticks, like knives, elicit cries: or
The sticks are honed to slash like knives:
"Though I pray with all my might."
I think I might drop either "though" or "I", to give it the same meter and syllables you use in the other stanzas. If you remove "I", the reader should make the connection to the one in the previous line. If you remove "though", I would end the previous line with a period.
I hope this is helpful, or at least stimulates possibilities.